


before you twist your tongue

by cashcakeplz



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Abuse, Anal Sex, Angst, Assault, Bullying, Child Neglect, Dom/sub, Drug Addiction, Exhibitionism, Face Slapping, Fucked Up, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, NO rape, Oral Sex, Please Be careful, Prostitution, Recreational Drug Use, References to Drugs, Rough Sex, Sad, Sexting, Slut Shaming, Small!Luke, Sort Of, Spanking, Stalking, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships, Unsafe Sex, alright boys this is a fucked up one, and thats it this is the worst thing ever, and theres feelings, and theres one really graphic scene, bottom!Luke, calum likes luke, dirty in the beginning but then fucking sad ok, jock!calum, lukes a prostitute, lukes pretty fucked up in this btw guys, no ashton - Freeform, prostitute!Luke, references to it at least - Freeform, safe sex as well though, so heres the deal, so please be careful reading, they fuck, top!Calum, which im really disappointed in myself for but whatever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-10-01 05:00:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17237867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cashcakeplz/pseuds/cashcakeplz
Summary: “Don't think about it, pretty boy.” Luke purrs. “It's not your future, it's mine. No use ruining the mood you've already set with a hard dose of reality.”Calum swallows a lump in his throat. He can't stop imagining Luke crumpled and abused in dirty sheets. It's no way anyone should be treated, let alone someone like Luke.“You're somebody's little boy.” Calum whispers to him, his eyes on Luke's race car sheets. They're childish and worn down, but they're all Luke and his family can afford. And honestly, Luke's not quite grown out of them yet, even if he lets old men have their way with him for money.or the one where Luke's a boy in Calum's class who also happens to be a prostitute, and Calum can't keep himself away from the pretty blonde boy with a fucked up background.Based off of Story So Far's "Daughters"





	before you twist your tongue

**Author's Note:**

> hello,  
> so apparently im on a posting binge, ha ha. I've been working on this one for a long time. I was craving cake (ha, that's funny to me) so here's a piece of cake (that was also funny to me).  
> However, this work is seriously messed up and there are some themes in this one that are pretty mature.  
> If you are reading this, please take the time to go over the tags carefully, there is a very graphic, violent scene in this and it is tagged as underage. Luke is sixteen and a prostitute, so you can imagine the kind of shit that's going on.  
> This fic is very filthy in the beginning, but will be sad quickly at the end. 
> 
> But you guys know me. I rarely have unhappy endings :) I shall say no more, please enjoy. 
> 
> XX- Alex

*based off “Daughters” Story So Far

 

Calum knew who he was, everyone did.

Everyone knew the boy with messy blonde hair and big blue eyes, who stopped growing after eighth grade. Everyone knew what he did in his spare time, how he could charm anyone with a lip bite and his pretty eyes.

Calum had seen him. He had seen him in the back of his English class, scribbling on ripped pieces of paper with incredible speed. He had seen the way his fingers shook with the pen in his hand. He had seen when he shoved the paper inside his bag when the bell rang.

Calum wanted to know what the words said. He wanted to know _everything_ about him.

Most people knew who Calum was too. He was captain of the footy team; tall dark and handsome. He was in on most the social circles. He had heard what his friends had to say about the boy. He’d heard the rumors and heard the insults of someone his friends knew nothing about.

Calum was a good boy. He played sports and volunteered and scored well on his exams. He was the type to date the hottest volleyball player. Not the type to obsess over messy boys with an affinity for drugs and older men.

It just wasn’t proper, and Calum knew it.

But that didn’t stop him.

His name was Luke Hemmings, and Calum was helplessly obsessed.

Luke sat by himself at lunch. He didn’t talk in class. He hardly showed up to school, honestly. He walked with a limp, and his eyes were usually bloodshot. He was tiny, only 5’ 6”, and 115 pounds. He wore ripped jeans and large t-shirts that didn’t look like they belonged to him. He was constantly glued to his phone, and he never smiled.

Calum was going to see that boy smile before he died. Even if it killed him.

Calum heard on the vine that Luke hung out behind the movie theatre most Friday nights. Doing what, exactly, Calum wasn’t sure. He had a general idea, though.

It took Calum months to work up the courage to go there and find out for sure.

On a chilly February night, Calum showed up in his car to the street behind the theatre, a glorified alley with cracked pavement and crooked fences. Above his head, there were a pair of converse tied together, and hung over a telephone cable. Calum bit his lip. What was he doing here?

Luke was there, as promised, leaning against a telephone pole with a cigarette in his mouth, and a black coat that went down to his knees. It looked far too expensive and large to be his.

“Calum, right?” He asked. His voice was soft, quiet, and higher pitched than Calum had expected. Calum approached his little circle of light, his hands buried deep in his pockets.

“Yeah.” He answered. His voice was low and rough. He hadn’t talked in awhile. Luke nods, not looking at Calum, and blowing out some smoke.

“I’ve seen you watching me at school.” He says simply. Calum frowns, but doesn’t respond. Luke does it for him. “Hard to ignore eyes like yours”

“What does that mean?”

Luke shrugs and runs his free hand through his hair. His fingers are shaking as usual, and Calum has the urge to grab them in his own. He wants to rub them until the blood is running to the tips of his fingers, and he’s no longer cold and shaking. He takes a deep breath before Luke answers.

“Popular kid.” He says, flicking some ash off his cigarette. “Rich, too. You’re the last type of person that _should_ be looking at me. Nothing good for you here.”

Calum’s tongue feels tied into knots while he works out what to say. Luke is right. Being here is a horrible idea, but Calum just can’t help himself.

“Nothing?” He questions. Luke’s mouth quirks in a smile, and Calum’s pulse rises embarrassingly quickly.

“Do you know why I’m here?” Luke asks. He turns, and his eyes lock with Calum’s. It’s like he hit Calum in the chest with a sledge hammer. His eyes are so fucking _blue,_ even with his pupils dilated as much as they are. Jesus, why does Calum want him so fucking _badly_?

“I think so.” He answers once his heart has calmed enough for him to answer. Luke’s eyes squint slightly, but he nods.

“You don’t.” He says back, looking away again. “Don’t pretend that you do. You’ll never know, and you’ll never understand, rich boy.”

Calum opens his mouth to answer, but no words come out. Calum once read that volcanic bubbles, though only made of air, could hold off volcanic eruptions for hundreds, maybe even thousands of years. Right now, one of those bubbles is at the top of Calum's throat. He couldn’t answer even if he found the right words.

“This has been great, really, it has. But you should go home before someone finds you. You’re a pretty boy, Calum. You wouldn’t last much longer than I did.” Luke says with some sort of cynical humor. “I have a seven o'clock. Run along, pretty boy.”

 

-

 

_They were hurting him._

_They were hurting him, and Calum was watching._

_He was only fourteen, young and small, and completely powerless to stop the older boys Calum called himself friends with._

_They found him in the bathroom, washing his hands, and checking the bags under his eyes. Calum can clearly remember the_ fear _in his eyes when they had cornered him. Calum stood back by the door while two of his friends grabbed his skinny arms, and pinned him to the wall._

_Luke had struggled. He kicked, and he scratched, and he spit. He remembers how his friend had punched him hard enough that his head whiplashed into the wall when Luke’s spit landed on his face._

_He remembers how long it took for Luke to collapse. The younger boy had withstood so many hits and kicks, Calum didn’t understand how he was still conscious. No, Luke just took it. He took their abuse while tears fell from his eyes, and Calum watched the whole thing, and said_ nothing _._

_“Cal, c’mon man, hit him.” His friend had said, his eyes dark and angry. Calum’s hands were clammy with nerves. He looked at Luke, who hadn’t looked up from the floor for some time now. His nose was dripping with blood, and his face was flushed._

_Calum saw how pale his hands were, limp in the grips his friends has on his wrists. Calum swallowed nervously._

_“Why are we doing this?” He squeaked, too much of a coward to do anything else. His older friend rolled his eyes._

_“This little bitch stole drugs from me.” He snapped back. Calum’s eyebrows knotted. He wasn’t stupid, he knew his friends did stuff, but he didn’t know they dealt. He didn’t know Luke_ used _. Luke flinched when he heard the accusal._

 _“I didn’t steal_ anything _from you. Please.” He said, his voice nothing more than a sob. His chest was barely moving, his breath limited. Calum suddenly felt like throwing up. His friend punched Luke again, and when he fell forward, they let him fall to the ground._

_With barely any energy left, Luke crawled to the bathroom stall, and threw up into the toilet. He convulsed violently, and Calum watched in horror._

_His friends laughed._

_“Let’s go.” His oldest friend said, still laughing at Luke, who was holding onto the porcelain for dear life. His friends walked by him._

_“You coming, Cal?”_

_Calum stared at Luke on the floor, so crushed and weak. He needed help. He needed to go to the hospital. How could they just leave him here? How could they hurt him so badly? How could Calum_ let _them?_

_“Yeah.” He answered._

_A coward and ashamed, Calum turned, and left the fourteen-year-old on the floor to waste himself away, feeling like a monster._

 

_-_

 

Calum gets Luke’s number.

It takes a lot of networking, but eventually Calum tracks down Luke’s only known acquaintance. His name is Michael, and he’s the best dealer in school according to the same friend that beat the shit out of Luke two years ago.

Michael, though dangerous and little schizophrenic, is surprisingly pleasant, and even offers Calum a free joint along with Luke’s number. Calum’s not fucking blind, he saw the way Michael’s eyes moved down his body, clearly interested.

Though flattered, Calum had to turn him down, and took Luke’s number with haste, and left the west wing of the school.

Calum stares at the scribbled numbers for a week before he programs them into his phone. It takes another two to actually do anything with them. He sends Luke a text, just one that says hey and who he is. After he sends it, he sets his phone on his nightstand, and tries not to stare at it like a creep.

But he does.

For _days_.

Luke, apparently, doesn’t want to respond to him. Calum doesn’t push it, and he waits in agony. He sees Luke at school a few days after he sends the texts, sitting in his desk in english, scrolling through his phone.

His jaw dropped, Luke looks up at him. Calum tries to look away, but he’s not quick enough. He’s been caught looking, and Luke winks at him, tapping his phone. Calum doesn’t know what that means, and he tries to avoid thinking about it. He sits in his desk, and places his head in his hands, trying desperately to pull himself together.

At two am that night, his phone goes off, waking Calum up from a rather restless sleep.

From: Luke Hemmings

_Saw you staring again today._

Calum reads the blurry letters at least twenty times before typing a reply, his brain still trying to catch up with what’s happening.

To: Luke Hemmings

_That took awhile._

From: Luke Hemmings

_I’m a busy boy_

To: Luke Hemmings

_I’ve heard_

From: Luke Hemmings

_What’ve you heard?_

Calum flushes. This is the second time Luke has called him out on it, and it’s not any better than the first.

To: Luke Hemmings

_Probably not something I should share with children_

From: Luke Hemmings

_I’m not a child, and that’s not funny_

Calum smirks at that message, finding the irony in it to be _extremely_ amusing.

To: Luke Hemmings

_Why are you up so late_

From: Luke Hemmings

_Just got off work._

Calum knots his eyebrows, and glances at his clock to confirm that it’s really two am.

It is.

To: Luke Hemmings

_It’s late_

From: Luke Hemmings

_The fun ones come out at night_

To: Luke Hemmings

_That’s not safe_

From: Luke Hemmings

_You know nothing_

To: Luke Hemmings

_Tell me about it, then_

From: Luke Hemmings

_Can you handle the truth?_

To: Luke Hemmings

_Let’s find out_

From: Luke Hemmings

_Are you into guys, Calum?_

To: Luke Hemmings

_Why do you answer everything with a question_

From: Luke Hemmings

_Why don’t you answer any of them?_

To: Luke Hemmings

_I’m into guys. I think_

From: Luke Hemmings

_You think? Having a sexuality crisis over there?_

Calum blinks at his phone, surprised by Luke’s confidence. He didn’t expect it.

To: Luke Hemmings

_I’m into guys._

From: Luke Hemmings

_We should meet sometime_

To: Luke Hemmings

_Am I your type?_

From: Luke Hemmings

_No_

To: Luke Hemmings

_What’s the point then?_

From: Luke Hemmings

_Always up for an adventure._

Calum's stomach turns. What the _fuck_ is he doing? All of the sudden, his feet are feeling pretty chilly.

To: Luke Hemmings

_That’s probably not a good idea_

From: Luke Hemmings

_No, it’s definitely not._

To: Luke Hemmings

_I’m sorry. I don’t know what I’m doing_

From: Luke Hemmings

_I know. I understand. In case you change your mind:_

Calum knots his eyebrows in confusion before he gets the rest of Luke’s message. He nearly drops his phone on his face in shock.

Luke’s a brat, as Calum finds out, staring at his phone. Naked and cheeky, Luke looks downright _sinful_ in the picture Calum receives. He stares for a long time, looking at that white skin, at his thighs that are covered in bruises, no doubt from other men’s hands. _God_ , that turns Calum on. His cock stirs hard in his boxers.

To: Luke Hemmings

_Wow_

From: Luke Hemmings

_Like that, rich boy?_

To: Luke Hemmings

_Don’t ask questions you already know the answer to_

From: Luke Hemmings

_Ha. Get off on that, sweetheart. Goodnight_

Calum drops his jaw again, blown away by this sixteen year old kid that knows how to play him like a violin, no doubt a result of endless practice. He swallows uneasily, and sets his phone back on his nightstand, trying to erase the image of a that boy from his head.

Unfortunately, his cock doesn’t want to forget it so soon.

With guilt burning in his stomach, Calum picks up his phone again while his hand slides southwards towards his boxers. Pleasure shooting up his spine, Calum stares at the picture of the younger boy while he works himself over, imagining being with him, picturing the things he would do to that body; the things he would do to that boy.

When Calum finally finishes, he’s exhausted, half in pleasure, half in shame.

What is he doing?

 

-

  


Luke catches Calum staring at least three times a day. Calum blushes hard, the picture Luke sent him still etched into his brain, and the younger boy knows it. He smirks, and winks at him, making Calum see stars.

They don’t talk again until after school a week later, when Calum finds Luke sitting outside on the steps, letting the rain soak him. With half a mind to keep walking, and ignore the way Luke is shaking, Calum checks over his shoulder to make sure none of his team mates can see him before going up to the younger boy.

He stands in front of Luke for a minute before sitting down beside him on the freezing concrete. They’re both wet, but Luke is significantly _more_ wet, so Calum pulls off his sweatshirt, and hands it to him. Luke takes it with a knowing look. He pulls it on, and Calum is _extremely_ satisfied by the fact that it swamps him.

“You’re out late.” Luke comments, not looking at Calum.

“So are you.” Calum returns. “Why aren’t you at home?”

“Why are you still here?”

“You did it again. Why can’t just answer me?”

“Does that make you angry?”

“Not really.”

Luke looks at him disappointedly before standing up.

“It should.” He says, starting to walk down the steps to the sidewalk. Calum watches him for a few seconds before his brain makes him move.

“Where are you going?”

“Home.” He answers with a laugh. Calum watches the way he struggles off the last step, his knees buckling a little.

“Let me give you a ride.”

Luke raises an eyebrow.

“I’m not a stray cat, rich boy. I can take care of myself.”

“You can hardly walk and you’re soaking wet. I’ve got a car, just let me drive you home.”

“I’m not a fucking charity case. Screw off.”

“I didn’t say you were.” Calum says, standing up, frustration running through him. “Just let someone be nice to you for once.”

“Ironic, coming from you.” Luke comments, continuing to walk. Calum balls his hands into fists.

“Luke.” He snaps. The younger boy stops. “I need to repay you. Get in my car, let me take you home.”

Luke seems to respond better to direct orders, which honestly doesn’t surprise Calum, but the boy turns back to him, and nods slowly. He seems to trust easily, which Calum doesn’t really like, but he knows why.

Luke climbs into Calum’s car, and touches the leather seat carefully. His gaze on Calum is subtle but not unnoticable, and Calum feels it the whole way to where Luke tells him to go.

He knew Luke didn’t have much money, but the house he’s directed to is smaller than his garage. It’s shabby, in a dangerous neighborhood, and clearly falling apart. But Luke is sure when Calum pulls into the driveway.

“Thanks for the ride, sweetheart.” Luke comments. He starts to climb out. Calum watches him go without saying anything. He watches as the door to the house opens, and a skinny woman with deep lines in her face comes out, and grabs Luke face with a huge smile. Caressing his skin, and laughing, as if she hasn’t seen him in weeks.

Maybe she hasn’t.

Luke brushes off her fussing, and goes into his house. The woman, who Luke assumes is his mother, looks at Calum in his expensive car, and her face is nothing but thankful. All Calum can think about is all the things he fantasizes about doing to her son.

He wonders...if she knew those things, would she still be thankful?

He wants to ruin Luke even more than he already is, and Calum never even stopped to think...Luke is somebody’s son.

 

-

 

Things start to get dirtier and dirtier with Luke.

Calum hasn’t even attempted to stop this freight train that he knows is extremely out of control. He knows it’s only going to end one way. He can’t save Luke, not when Luke is too far gone. The only ending is Luke dragging Calum down with him, but Calum doesn’t mind.

Luke sends Calum pictures daily, and never asks for Calum to return the favor. Their late-night conversations start to be Calum’s only motivation to get through the day. He sits in class half-hard all the time just thinking about it. He’s constantly horny, and always desperate for more from Luke.

Words just aren’t enough for him anymore. He starts to get pushy, which, before Luke, wasn’t an element of his personality.

To: Luke Hemmings

 _That was a pretty picture you sent me last night_.

Calum disciplines himself to face straight ahead instead of turning around in his desk to see if Luke opened his message.

His phone goes off a second later to confirm anyway.

From: Luke Hemmings

_Liked it, did you?_

To: Luke Hemmings

_You know I did, brat_

From: Luke Hemmings

_So sassy_

To: Luke Hemmings

_You had better watch that mouth_

From: Luke Hemmings

_But I’m not talking?_

To: Luke Hemmings

_You know what happens to cheeky boys, Luke. Don’t play games with me._

From: Luke Hemmings

_I feel like it’s you playing the game. Sexting in class, rich boy?_

To: Luke Hemmings

_You should watch your attitude around people who could hurt you._

From: Luke Hemmings

_Everyone can hurt me._

To: Luke Hemmings

_Well I just might if you don’t learn some manners_

From: Luke Hemmings

_Please do._

To: Luke Hemmings

_Is that a challenge?_

From: Luke Hemmings

_A promise._

To: Luke Hemmings

_I’ll be there. Same time. You better be fucking ready for me._

From: Luke Hemmings

_Always. You made me hard :(_

To: Luke Hemmings

_Better not touch it._

From: Luke Hemmings

_Not without your permission._

To: Luke Hemmings

_Good boy._

Calum bites his lip. A few months has changed him. He’s not hesitant about this anymore. The guilt is all but gone.

He’s become darker in a short span of time. More strong, more controlling. Luke’s bratty nature does nothing but add fuel to the fire. Calum doesn’t accept bad behavior from him.

Luke can still fuck old men for money on the weekends. He can still get high on some sort of drug that’ll stop his heart 1 in every 10 times. Calum doesn’t care. But Luke will treat him with respect, or he’ll regret it.

Calum _will_ teach him discipline, and Luke knows it.

They started having sex at Luke's house a few weeks ago. The first time, Calum had been nervous as hell, and terrified to tell Luke that he was a virgin, and that he had no idea what he was doing.

But Luke knew. Luke knew, and with his fingers shaking, guided Calum through it with surprising gentleness. When Luke took off his clothes, Calum had stared at the marks littering Luke’s body, from scratches on his upper arms to bruised fingertips on his thighs to burns on his chest in perfect circles.

He’d been horrified at the time, staring at the various injuries until Luke caught his gaze, and distracted him by sinking down on his dick. He hadn’t even noticed when Luke rolled the condom on.

This particular Thursday night isn’t much different, in regards to when and where. After school, Calum waits until it’s dark to drive back to Luke’s house. He parks a street away, and climbs into Luke’s window without any detection.

Luke is waiting for him, like Calum asked, sitting on his small bed, naked, and from the looks of it, freshly fucked.

“Calum.” He says in a breathy voice. Calum has no doubt that his fingers were up his ass a minute ago. Luke likes to play with cum.

Calum raises an eyebrow upon entering, not bothering to say anything. He strips his North Face jacket, and throws it on Luke’s floor before pushing up his long sleeves to his elbows. Luke smiles his cheeky little smile at Calum briefly. He always looks knowing, like he’s talking down to Calum, and Calum _hates_ it.

Luke leans back on his bed, watching Calum take his shirt off with interested eyes. His fingers venture up his chest, brushing over one of the burns, right below his ribs. “You came.”

“Said I would, didn’t I.” Calum says, coming closer to the bed. He grabs Luke’s jaw, and tilts his head sideways, examining the younger boy. “How many did you have before I got here?”

Luke practically purrs.

“Just two.” He says. “$950 a pop.”

“Awe Luke.” Calum says condescendingly. “You and I both know you’re scamming those old men. You’re worth far less than that.”

Luke’s desire to be humiliated has always fascinated Calum. The way Luke is so _desperate_ to hear bad things about himself makes Calum’s blood move shockingly quickly in his veins.

“That wasn’t very nice.” Luke says back, his pupils dilating. Calum ignores that, knowing Luke isn’t really hurt.

“And how much else?” He questions, squinting at Luke’s bloodshot eyes.

“Just one.” He whispers. Calum knots his eyebrows, and without thinking at all, slaps Luke _hard_ across the face. Luke’s face flushes where Calum hit him, and Calum licks his lips in response.

“Liar.”

“Two.” Luke says in a solemn voice. “How do you always know.”

“I can smell it on you.” He says. “It’s not that pungent with just one joint. It was at least two. I have half a mind to tie you to this bed because I think you had more than that.”

“I promise.” Luke says sweetly, sitting up on his knees, and leaning towards Calum, who steadies him when he starts to stumble. “Only two. You said only two.”

“That’s right.” Calum snaps at him. He presses his fingers to Luke’s lips, and the younger boy sucks them onto his tongue obediently. “But did you listen?”

Luke sucks harder before swallowing.

“Hit me again.” He says, muffled with Calum’s fingers in his mouth. Spit starts to drip down his chin.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you.” Calum returns, pulling his fingers out, and wiping Luke’s chin. “You fucking brat. Why do you always want to be punished? Are you really _that_ bad, Luke?”

“Yes, I really am.” Luke confirms, and Calum is a little obsessed with how large his pupils are. God, Luke is _so_ high right now.  

“Do you even know what you’re saying, Luke?” He questions. “Do you know what’s coming out of your mouth?”

Luke smiles, and reaches for Calum’s hand to put his fingers back in his mouth. Calum rolls his eyes at the younger boy’s response, but lets him do what he wants while he works his pants down his legs.

“So what did you really have?” Calum questions. “It wasn't just weed.”

Luke finally releases Calum's fingers in order to answer.

“There's this one guy. A regular.” He says mindlessly. “Like his boys pretty and out of it. He gets a kick out of LSD.”

“Luke.” Calum admonishes. Luke smiles softly, and reaches toward to touch Calum's stomach gently.

“I've convinced him against it. I take poppers instead.” Luke says, covering one of his nostrils to emphasize. “I don't take LSD on weeknights.”

“You shouldn't take it at all.”

“Why do you care?”

Calum shrugs, and climbs on the bed beside him.

“It will kill you.”

Luke chuckles sardonically.

“Like I said. What do you care?”

Calum takes that into consideration. He stops to think, leaning his head back against the wall. Luke will die before he's 28, probably in some older man's bed with a hypodermic needle stuck in his arm. The thought makes Calum shudder.

“Don't think about it, pretty boy.” Luke purrs. “It's not your future, it's mine. No use ruining the mood you've already set with a hard dose of reality.”

Calum swallows a lump in his throat. He can't forget the image of Luke crumpled and lifeless in dirty sheets. It's no way to die for anyone, let alone someone like Luke.

“You're somebody's little boy.” Calum whispers to him, his eyes on Luke's race car sheets. They're childish and worn down, but they're all Luke and his family can afford. And honestly, Luke's not quite grown out of them yet, even if he lets old men have their way with him for money.

Luke frowns.

“Don't say that again, please.” He says in a hollow voice. Calum realizes that Luke just genuinely asked for something, nicely too. A definite soft spot for him. Calum decides not to bring it up again.

“You giving me orders now, little one?” Calum purrs. He needs to get Luke’s mind off of what he just brought up. He’s not here to make Luke choose a new life. This was his decision. Calum has no right to try and convince him out of it.

“No, sir.” Luke replies, a little shaky. He’s still pretty curled in on himself, so Calum decides to take it step further.

“Kiss me, baby.” He says. “Let me taste them.”

Luke smiles, and sits up on his knees to press his mouth against Calum’s. Luke’s tongue is rough on Calum’s, cut with sores from whatever he does, like he’s been sucking on sour candies. Calum doesn’t mind though, and he presses the younger boy back against the wall.

Luke, despite his experience with sex, always seems desperate for it, always seems in need of guidance when Calum can get him to shut his mouth. He grips at Calum’s arms, leaving red marks on his dark skin, his nails long and broken in places. Calum nips at his bottom lip and grips his thigh hard enough to bruise to get Luke to stop.

Luke whines when he pulls away. “That hurts.”

“Good.” Calum answers, grabbing Luke’s other leg to manhandle him to the head on the bed, laying him down. He leans forward, and kisses Luke’s neck, nosing at the fading hickeys all over his collar. “Do you know what I’m going to do to you, Luke?”

“No.” Luke plays innocent, playing into what Calum wants. “Will you tell me?”

“I’m going to use you, baby.” Calum whispers into this skin. He knows it’s cliche, telling Luke how he’s just a toy, a hole for him to use. But it’s what works. “And you’re going to lay here, and take what I give you. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“Calum.” Luke says, faintly while the older boy turns him over onto his stomach. Calum presses his hand to the back of Luke’s neck, his fingers creeping up Luke’s long hair. His hair, though ruffled, is soft and getting long in the back so his baby hairs curl around his ears. Calum _lives_ to pull on it.

“What have you done to me, Luke?” Calum asks softly, pushing so Luke has no choice but to turn his head so he won’t suffocate. Calum takes note of how red his cheeks are. He can practically feel Luke’s blood buzzing around in his veins. “You make me want to do so many _things_ to you. Things I’ve never thought of before.”

“Like what?” Luke asks, Calum pets down his bare back until he reaches his ass, red and bruised from too many men that take out their frustrations on young boys for a few bucks.

“Bad things, honey.”

Luke whimpers pathetically when Calum slips a finger inside his stretched hole.

“I’d like to hurt you nearly every chance I get.” He says quietly. “Half the time I can’t decide between fucking you where you stand, or smacking your ass. It’s a hard choice.”

Cum drips onto Calum’s fingers, the remnants of Luke’s latest customer. Luke whimpers when Calum takes his fingers out, and wipes them on his stomach, leaving small streaks on his skin.

“Look how messy you are.” Calum points out, letting Luke lick his fingers clean. “Letting me on you while you’re still filled with someone else’s cum.”

“You know I like feeling dirty.” Luke purrs. Calum shakes his head almost fondly.

“Do you really have no respect for yourself, Luke?” He asks, pulling his fingers from Luke’s mouth to press them back inside his sloppy hole. “You’d let me do anything, wouldn’t you? You’re so desperate for my approval. For _their_ approval, too.”

Luke stretches his fingers out, grabbing the cotton sheets beside him with a whimper.

“How far would you let me go, honey? Would you let me do anything just to win my affection?”

Luke pushes further into the pillow when Calum presses down hard on his sweet spot. Calum knows Luke must be sore, he knows of one customer of Luke’s that likes to milk Luke until the younger boy can do nothing but babble and shake. Though Luke doesn’t take him on weekdays, he’s sure the younger boy is still incredibly sensitive, and it shows as he presses onto it.

“Yes sir.” He says in a choked voice that suggests Calum has drawn a few tears. Most likely because of his fingers, not his words. If anything, his words have made Luke’s pretty little cock a lot harder.

“That’s my boy.”  

“Cal.”

“What is it?” Calum asks, clamping his hand down on Luke’s hip, so small and easy to hold.

“Can you...please?”

Calum knows what Luke wants, and honestly, he has no objections.

“Condom or not?” He asks, dragging his fingers free from Luke’s body. Luke shudders softly, like someone is running a feather down his spine.

“Condom, please.” He says into the pillow. “Want you clean.”

“Alright.” Calum says, leaning to grab one from Luke’s nightstand where he keeps them. “Get up.”

Luke does as he’s told, pressing onto his sore knees to show Calum what he’s worth.

“It’s gonna hurt.” Calum warns, spitting on his hand with a grimace. Luke doesn’t carry lube with him, which has never made much sense to Calum.

“Good.” Luke says back, his back flexing, bones locked to brace himself. It’s sights like these, Luke, bruised and shaking as he lays himself out to give Calum whatever he wants, that make Calum wonder how far he could really manipulate Luke if he wanted.

Then he remembers that Luke does this for a _living_ , and honestly, if Luke left him, Calum would be the one following him around, not the other way. Calum will join the legions of men that are wrapped around little Luke Hemmings’ pinky finger. Luke could destroy Calum is he wanted to, and maybe that’s what makes this this so hot to him: the danger involved.

And the fact that he and all those old men have one difference when it comes to Luke.

At the end of the night, Calum’s wallet is the same weight as when he began it.

It's a feat that Calum knows is rare, and he knows it means something. What it means, exactly, is a mystery. But it means something. He's sure of it.

“Fuck, Luke. How is your pussy so tight even after being fucked twice?” Calum whimpers as he pushes in, crazed by how tight and _wet_ Luke is, making shivers rip up his spinal cord.

Luke let's out a soft noise, like a cry almost.

“I don't know,” He says, laying his chest flat on the bed, his shoulder blades sticking up because of it. Calum presses a hand to the right one, making Luke put his arm down. “I'm so wet for you. Do you feel it?”

Calum groans, feeling a drop of something push out of the younger boy and roll down his cock.

“I feel it, honey. Don't you worry. Nice and wet.” Calum grunts, his fingers digging into Luke's hips.

“Oh.” Luke let's out a pathetic breath when Calum's tip presses against the spot inside of him. “You...you know why I asked you to wear a condom?”

“Why.” Calum says, pressing his hips to Luke's ass. “Tell me.”

“Because...you're different.”

“Yeah?” Calum's hands are slick with sweat.

“You're not like those men. You're better. You shouldn't have to touch them inside of me.”

Calum feels his balls tighten with that, feeling like he just got punched in the stomach.

“I like feeling how dirty you are though, baby.”

“Don't care.” Luke says softly. “You don’t deserve that like I do.”

“Why’re you being so sweet, Luke?” Calum asks, pressing in further. “What do you want from me? You know I’ll give it to you.”

“Don’t want anything…” Luke whimpers. His legs are clearly aching, and Calum wants to lay him down flat, but he won’t. Luke’s a big boy. If he wanted to be comfortable, he would be. He chose this. Calum isn’t going to tell him any different. “Just want you to be treated the way you should.”

“What about you, then?” Calum asks, pulling out only to press back in hard enough to rob Luke of all the air in his chest.

“This is how I deserve to be treated, don’t you think?” He asks, hollow.

In Calum's head, he thinks that Luke deserves to be treated the way Luke treats his customers. People should rain down praise on him and treat him like rare white gold. Calum thinks that Luke deserves the world, and even if the younger boy doesn't agree, he knows Luke wants to be treated that way.

Calum thinks all this while he's thrusting into the younger boy, pleasure running through his body like oil in water.

“Yes.” He says eventually, caging Luke and grabbing his wrists to pin him to the bed even though Luke wouldn't _dream_ of escaping Calum's grasp. “I do think that.”

“Cmon then,” Luke challenges. “Feel me like they did, Calum.”

_Calum._

Calum feels like he's suddenly been hit by a truck with the sound of his name coming from Luke's mouth.

“ _Luke_.” He breathes out hard. It's too much. Being here, in Luke's worn down bedroom, in Luke's worn down body. He needs to cum.

“Fuck me.” Luke says in a strangely delicate voice. He sounds like he's seconds away from crying, and he feels like a tiny glass figurine in Calum's too-large hands, like he could break if Calum were to just flex his fingers. “Please fuck me.”

“I won't stop.” Calum says to him, his lips brushing Luke's ear, the younger boy’s golden hair tickling his face.”I promise. Not until I'm finished with you and you won't be able to walk straight tomorrow.”

Calum knows that it's cheap talk, words that Luke hears every other night in his efforts to charm more money out of men to keep food on the table for himself and his mother. But he knows Luke likes them. Luke likes hearing Calum's voice, and Calum isn't comfortable enough to say anything other than filth to Luke. Anything else will end up destroying both of them.

The first times they had done anything, Calum had been ghostly quiet. Luke had nearly cum all over himself the first time he heard Calum even moan. The words Calum spoke were a hundred times more effective.

“Cmon.” Luke pants. One of his hands reaches back to grip Calum's thigh, his jagged nails breaking the skin he catches. Calum bites at his ear in retaliation. Luke yelps, and Calum pistons in harder until the bed is slamming the wall so hard, Calum is shocked the damn thing hasn't collapsed by now.

“You feel good, Luke? Does my cock feel like theirs?”

“Better.” Luke says, just _absolutely_ wrecked.

“Prove it.” Calum snaps. He slips his hand under Luke's flat stomach and grips his cock. “Cum for me.”

“I will.” Luke returns, sounding like a challenge.

Calum’s stomach is starting to tighten as Luke pushes back harder and harder, and just as the younger boy is about to cry out, Calum wraps a hand around his mouth. He pushes in as hard as possible, and spills into the condom while Luke whines against his hand, his own seed spilling over Calum’s other hand.

Luke shakes as Calum continues to stroke his limp cock, making the sensitivity hurt. When he’s finally satisfied, and Luke’s legs are trembling so hard he’s sure he’ll collapse, he finally lets go and pulls out. Exhausted, he sits back against the headboard while Luke finally allows himself to flop on his belly.

Calum pulls off the condom, and throws it in the trash can wedged against the bed, and eyes Luke as he catches his breath, taking note of the bruises already forming over day-old ones. There are scars on Luke’s back, thin lines from something cutting into his skin and then not healing properly. Despite the high of afterglow, Calum still feels his heart ache at the sight of them, at the reminder they encase.

Luke catches him looking when he glances over his shoulder, and defensively flips over, grabbing the blanket by him. Calum enjoys the sex, always does, but he can’t deny the part of himself that likes this part too, when Luke becomes a little softer, a little shier now that he’s done what he promised. It feels important, for some reason.

“Don’t think about it.” Luke whispers in that gentle way of his. Calum nods, having heard the words a hundred times already. He leans over to the nightstand to dig for a cigarette, mostly so he won’t be tempted to trace Luke’s body with his eyes. When he finally finds one, he rolls it between his fingers for a moment of hesitation.

“Here.” Luke crawls up to him, and cleans his seed of Calum’s hands with a Wet Wipe. Calum smiles gently in thanks. Luke glances up at him, cheeks still flushed, then flicks his gaze back down to the cloth. “I’ll be back.”

While Luke walks out, Calum lights the cigarette, cracking Luke’s window to help filter the smell. Without meaning to, his eyes start to rove around the room, taking note of the dirty jeans and torn shirts that lie on the floor. Some of the shirts are stolen from clients, some are gifted to him. Across from him, tacked to the wall is a picture of Luke and his family, his older brother holding him up in the air.

He can’t be more than six in the photograph.

Calum snubs out the cigarette, his mouth suddenly too dry.

Luke comes back in, and immediately notices the change in Calum’s demeanor.

“You ok?” He asks softly as he pulls on boxers and pajama pants.

“Yeah.” Calum says, clearing his throat. Luke glances in the direction Calum was looking, sighing when he sees the picture. He walks to it, and takes it from the wall, tucking it in a drawer.

“I’m sorry.” He says. Calum’s heart skips a beat. Luke’s never apologized for anything.

“For what?” Calum asks, forcing his voice to be less constricted. “That was great.”

Luke stares at him for a long moment.

“Yeah.” He says slowly, like he knows what Calum is thinking. “Look, what you said about me being someone’s son-”

“Stop.” Calum says quickly. “I shouldn’t have said it. Let’s just forget it.”

For a split second, Luke looks a little stricken, even a little hurt, but the look is quickly covered by the cool expression Luke wears like armor.

“Good idea.” Luke returns, then turns to fish for a sweater from his cramped closet. Calum swallows roughly then gets off the bed, ignoring the loud creak it makes. He pulls on his jeans and after searching for a moment, his shirt too.

“Where’re your parents tonight?” He asks. Luke shakes his head.

“Don’t know, don’t care. You don’t either.”

Calum nods slowly and puts on his Northface too.

“Okay.” He answers to Luke’s subtle order to drop the subject. He glances over at the boy, who is leaning against the wall as if his knees are about to give out.

It wouldn’t be the first time.

Without saying anything, Calum walks over to him, and offers his arm. Luke takes it, and allows Calum to guide him to his bed.

Luke is shaking, and Calum feels that inevitable sense of guilt as the younger boy settles down. He doesn’t say thank you, and Calum doesn’t ask him to. Calum has been doing this with Luke long enough that he knows none of his clients ever stick around long enough to help Luke walk or to feel his skin shake from too much sex or too many drugs. Even though Luke pretends he doesn’t need Calum’s help, or doesn’t want it, Calum still stays afterwards to help him come down a little.

He almost always regrets the things he did and said when he stays.

Luke lays down, his hair still a mess, and Calum blinks gently before patting his hip.

“You going to school tomorrow?” He asks. Luke stares at the ceiling before answering.

“I don’t think so.”

Calum nods, but doesn’t ask questions.

“Alright. I’ll see you soon, then?”

Luke nods, his face strangely stony, before rolling over to face the wall.

Calum ignores the rejection, and stands up, aiming for the door.

“Window.” Luke says, and Calum’s chest aches for a moment. His mother must be home.

He slips his leg over the sill, and begins to lower himself out, eyeing Luke’s body tucked under the covers and shivering slightly. The house is cold at this time of year. He hesitates, thinking he might leave his jacket or tell Luke goodnight.

Eventually, he just drops to the ground, jacket still on and mouth still closed, and shuts the glass behind him.

He shakes his head to clear the thoughts, and trudges back to his car alone in the dark.

 

-

 

It doesn’t snow in Australia, but it does get cold in the winter months.

Luke comes to school without a jacket and with scratches on his face, and Calum feels anger mixed with his worry. As usual, Luke ignores him in the halls, looking paler than usual in the bright light of the cold day. Calum tries to push the thoughts and feelings away, but it never works. Not with Luke.

“Stop fucking looking at me like that.” Luke snaps to him while he gets down on his knees in a bathroom stall, his hands tugging at Calum’s jeans.

“Your face.” Calum says blankly while Luke wraps cold fingers around his cock.

“Yeah. I know I’m gorgeous.” Luke says in a bored tone before swallowing him down. Calum’s mind buzzes and he’s hazy as Luke sucks him off. After he finishes, he touches the longest scratch gently. It goes all the way across the bridge of his nose. Luke pushes his fingers away with annoyance.

“Stop it, pretty boy. You knew what you were signing up for.”

“These will scar.”

“So?” Luke asks. “What does it matter? They don’t really like me for my face anyway.”

“What did he do to you?” He asks, ignoring Luke’s quip.

Luke glares at him for a second before looking away, down at his forearms, which, now that his sleeves are rolled back, Calum can see have scratches as well.

“She.” Luke says lowly.

Calum blinks.

“It...it was a she.” He repeats, color rising to his cheeks. “And she had fake nails.”

Calum is surprised, but he knows that Luke’s problem wasn’t necessarily bad men...just bad people.

“She liked to peg...and I told her to...to fuck me like a man, and she didn’t take very kindly to it.”

He can see it, he can see Luke yelling that at a woman and her nails coming to slap him, fake plastic cutting into his fragile skin, which Calum knows can break open as easily a dead leaves crunching. The image makes him feel like retching.

“I didn’t know that you…”

“Play for both teams?” Luke asks with a humorless smirk. “Yeah. That’s because I don’t.”

Surprising anger rises in Calum’s chest. Luke reads the look on his face like a book, and scoffs, pushing up off of his knees. He stumbles forward, and Calum catches him by the arms, feeling sorry for the hiss Luke lets out when his fingers press down on the scratches.

“I’m sorry.”

“I know.” Luke answers, pulling his arm from Calum’s grip. “I don’t need your apologizes.”

Calum glares at him.

“Fine.” He snaps. He pushes past Luke, feeling only a little sorry when the younger boy stumbles from the force. “See you around.”

Calum catches a glimpse of Luke in the mirror as he leaves, the boy’s face twisted in disappointment when he thinks Calum can’t see him.

 

-

 

Calum isn’t insane, and he’s not creepy.

He tells himself.

He’s parked outside the school, waiting for Luke to come out. He’s been waiting for an hour, and Luke still hasn’t turned up. His gaze stays leveled on the front door of the building, ignoring the text messages on his phone from his friends asking where he is.

The knock on the glass makes Calum jump. He whips his head to look at the passenger door, where Luke has tapped on the window, his expression amused.

“What are you doing here?” He asks, his voice muffled through the glass. Calum unlocks the car, and gestures for luke to get in, which he does.

“I was waiting for you.” He says.

“Yeah, but why?” He answers with a twisted expression.

“It’s the coldest day we’ve had so far.”

“And?” Luke pushes.

“And I’m not letting your ass walk home or to the Block like this.”

Luke actually laughs, and Calum glares at him.

“Yeah, ok dad.” Luke notes, shaking his head as he opens the door to get out. Before he can, Calum is reaching over, forcing Luke back with a hand on his chest, and pulling the door shut. Luke looks at him with wide, offended eyes.

“Let go of me.” He snaps. Calum shakes his head, and locks the car. For a moment, Luke’s eyes go wild, looking at Calum with a terrified expression.

Calum takes his hand off of Luke’s chest, and quickly unlocks the door.

He forgot Luke is afraid of being in a locked car...especially with someone a lot stronger than him.

“I’ve been doing this for a winter, Calum. I can handle myself.” He says, his tone calmed down. Calum shakes his head.

“I know you can. But that doesn’t mean you have to. I’m not letting you get frostbitten.” He says firmly. “What’s so wrong with letting me drive you?”

“It’s not about you driving me, it’s about the fact that you’re trying to babysit me.”

“Well, someone has to.”

“Why?” Luke argues. “No one ever has, and look at me.”

“Exactly. Look at you.” Calum argues back. “Just because no one has ever watched over you before doesn’t mean no one ever should.”

Luke shakes his head, and looks pointedly out the window. He doesn’t get out the car. Neither of them say anything for moment.

“Your house or the Block?” Calum says softly after a pause.

“The Block.” Luke says finally, his voice humbled a shade. Calum clenches his jaw, and nods tightly. Luke shifts slightly, like he’s uncomfortable. Calum knows that he probably is.

“Heating the house is expensive.” Luke mutters under his breath. Calum chooses to ignore what he just said, and keeps his eyes on the road, his knuckles turning white in his anger. Luke notices, of course he does.

The Block is just showing signs of life when he pulls up, a few girls setting up shop and snapping at others for stealing their places on the cracked cement. Luke’s corner is untouched, like an unspoken rule. Calum knows that Luke is very well acquainted on the street.

Calum puts the car in park, and looks at Luke as he unbuckles his seatbelt.

“Here.” Calum says, reaching back to grab his NorthFace coat from the backseat. He hands it to Luke, who raises an eyebrow.

“You sure?” He says. “This is expensive.”

Calum shrugs.

“Then don’t lose it.”

“It’s not losing it that worries me.” Luke says. “It’s getting it ripped...or dirty.”

“Just take it. If you’re going to fucking stand in this weather all night you’re going to do it in a jacket.”

“Suit yourself.” He says. He climbs out of the car, but hesitates before shutting the door.

“I’ll call you when I’m done for the night.” He says. “If that’s okay.”

Surprised, Calum raises his eyebrows. Luke looks down at the leather of the car seat.

“You’re right. I probably shouldn’t be walking home in this weather, even if I do have your coat.” He glances at Calum through his eyelashes, then quickly backtracks. “Or I’ll just stay here tonight and walk back to school when it’s warm, you don’t have to come get me. Just forget-”

“Luke.” Calum says, stopping him. “Call me.”

Luke swallows his words.

“It will be late.”

Calum pictures Luke several hours later, naked on an empty bed, counting the twenties he collected. In the image in his head, his jacket lies ripped and useless on the floor. Imaginary Luke glances out the window, then back the coat, knowing he’ll have to walk back home without it and explain to Calum how it got ruined. He’s still shaking from the drugs one of his regulars made him take.

“Just call me when you’re done.”

Luke nods jerkily, pulls on the coat, and closes the car door. Calum watches for a moment while Luke walks down the dimly-lit alley, and tries to hold back the anger blossoming in his chest.

He’s not really sure what he’s angry at, but it consumes him until he feels like crawling out his skin in irritation. He puts his car in reverse, and goes home to wait for Luke’s call.

 

-

 

Luke has been doing what he does for a little over a year, and he’s become fairly well versed in the types of people he attracts.

There are those with repressed frustration, maybe a wife and kids, maybe a religious man, etc. He doesn’t mind them usually. They usually hold him down and fuck him angrily, say very little, and hand him over more money than he deserves with guilty looks in their eyes.

Very few only come once.

Then there are those who use people like Luke just to use someone. Those people usually come with sadistic smiles, bags of drugs, and extra money in case they get a little rough. Luke dreads them because they’re wild cards, and he doesn’t always know what to expect even though he should.

The man he has in the room with him today is the very definition of wildcard, and he calls Luke ‘honey,’ no matter how many dirty looks Luke throws him. He’s far larger than Luke, with cracked nails and greased back hair. He’s not unattractive, but he’s the type to really fuck Luke up if he makes a mistake. Luke would rather have refused his advances, but that never ends well, and besides, he needs the money.

He offers Luke heroin, and Luke considers it, knowing the man will pay better if he accepts, but he eventually shakes his head, despite the look of irritation the man gives him.

He promised Calum he wouldn’t.

“Suit yourself, sweet thing.” He says before he ties the band around his own arm. Luke sits on the bed with his knees tucked to his chest while he watches.

The sex is hard. Luke has been walking the line for a while now, and he knows his body is exhausted, but winter is in full-swing, and he can’t afford to stop for even a night. The man pushes and claws and forces Luke into odd and painful positions. After he finishes the first time, Luke collapses on the bed for a second, trying to catch his breath. He’s usually far more professional than this, but he’s just...tired today.

The man pulls his belt from his discarded jeans, and tells Luke to hush before bringing it down on his skin.

It’s not like it’s new, being hit with a belt, but this man is brutal with it, more than necessary. Luke stays quiet, and grips the bedding tightly as the man beats him over and over, over his ass, up his back, across his thighs, which really fucks him up. It goes on longer than usual, and when it finally ends, Luke looks through blurry eyes to see the man jacking off furiously over Luke’s messed up skin.

His cum burns when it touches him.

“That will cost you extra.” Is the only thing he can get out of his mouth when the pain has subsided enough to allow him to speak.

“What’d you say to me, pig?” The man snaps, grabbing Luke’s hair tightly.

“I said,” Luke says back, irritation welling inside his chest. “That will cost you extra.”

“You didn’t say nothing about that when I walked in here.”

Luke scowls at him. This is the kind of man whose been doing this to boys like Luke for a long time. He knows the rules probably better than Luke.

“Always costs extra to make me bleed.” Luke snaps. “Any inbred knows that, even you.”

Luke has been hurt before at his job. He’s been punched, kicked, and even dragged across asphalt, and he knows that he should really avoid those types of situations, but he’s had it with this man. He beat Luke bloody, and Luke didn’t even complain. Throwing him attitude, though a bad idea, seems completely warranted.

“Fucking whore boy.” The man snaps, throwing Luke back onto the bed. Luke sits up slowly, his body aching from the beating he took as he watches the man retrieve something else from his jeans pocket.

Assuming he’s after his wallet, Luke lets his head fall back and takes a deep breath.

“C’mere.” The man says, pulling Luke towards him by his ankle. Luke glances up as he’s pulled, and when he sees the switchblade in the man’s hand, panics.

“Get the fuck away from me.” He cries, jerking out of his grip, and scrambling away.

His struggling is good for nothing, because the man just tackles him, and, despite Luke’s frantic flailing, pins him down to the bed.

“Stop fucking fighting.”

“Don’t fucking touch me!” Luke screams, tears beginning to fall. “You don’t want to do this, I have people who will notice if I’m gone, they’ll know it was you!”

“I’m not going to kill you stupid boy.” He snaps, grabbing for Luke’s arms, and pushing them to the mattress. When Luke continues to fight, the man pulls his arms so hard, he nearly dislocates Luke’s shoulder. While he cries out, the man ties his hands together with his belt. “Shoulda thought before opening that stupid cocksucking mouth of yours. I’m gonna make it hurt now.”

Luke continues to cry and struggle. There’s nothing he can do in this situation, no gun he has, no person he yell for. The only thing he can do is try to calm down so his punishment won’t be as severe.

He’s done this to himself, anyway.

The man clicks his switchblade into place, and sets to work on the skin of Luke’s lower back. It’s beyond excruciating, the pain of the blade cutting into his already inflamed skin. Despite his efforts to be calm, Luke thrashes again, which only makes it worse, and screams himself silly while the man carefully carves into Luke.

When the pain becomes too much, and his tears are running into his mouth, Luke lets his head fall back on the bed, and, as the man continues to ruin him, finally lets the quiet wash over him as he loses consciousness.

 

-

 

“What the hell is that?”

Luke looks over his shoulder at Calum, and shakes his head, quickly pulling on a shirt.

“It’s nothing.”

“That is not nothing.” Calum argues, walking over the younger boy.

“Leave it, Calum.”

Calum just reaches for his shirt, and pulls it up so he can see Luke’s lower back. The skin is red and raw and there are scratches…

“I said leave it.” Luke snaps, pushing his shirt down.

Calum gasps as he steps back.

“Luke...what did they do to you?” He says in a hollow voice. Luke shakes his head.

“Get out of my house.”

Calum doesn’t move. He stands firmly behind Luke until the younger boy is forced to glare at him.

“Luke.” He says again in a heavy voice. “Show me.”

They stare each other down, Luke’s jaw clenched and unforgiving, but Calum’s expression hard.

It’s Calum who wins in the end, and Luke nods sharply before laying down on his stomach. It’s not that he can’t outlast Calum or anything, but...a part of him is just _tired_ of trying to hide everything from everyone all the time.

Calum’s hands are cool and gentle as they lift the shirt from Luke’s skin, and then precise when they pull at his jeans to get a look at the damage. Luke can tell when Calum finally sees how bad it is from the sharp intake of air.

“Oh god, Luke.” He mutters. “We’ve got to get you to a hospital. These are still bleeding.”

Luke shakes his head.

“C’mon Calum, you’re not that stupid.”

Calum chooses not to say anything back and just grazes his fingertips over the wounds. They’re deep, and they must be burning from lack of proper care, but it’s their shape that really cuts Calum to the bone.

Someone somewhere held Luke down, and carved the word “pig” into his skin with a switchblade, and the thought alone makes Calum nearly blind with rage. Without an explanation, he turns and sends his fist flying into the thin drywall of Luke’s bedroom.

Luke flinches, but doesn’t say anything.

“What will it take, Luke?” Calum snaps, anger and worry clouding his feelings like bits of glass in a kaleidoscope. “What will it take for you to stop this?”

Luke looks at Calum, his face still pressed to his bedding and his injured flesh still on display.

“Do you really think it’s that easy?” Luke says. “Do you think I wanted this to happen?”

“No.” Calum returns. “But I think that you’ll be going back.”

“You’re right.” Luke says, forcing himself to sit up, grimacing at the slicing pain in his spine. “And you can’t stop me.”

“Why?” He snaps. “Why would you go back when it’s…it’s _killing_ you!”

“What are my options, Calum? I’ll have nowhere to go!”

“You can stay here.” Calum answers. “You can get a job, or-”

“I have a goddamn job, Calum. I work at the refinery on the edge of town. It’s not enough. It’s not like you could ever understand anyway, just fucking let it go.”

“No, Luke. I won’t let you push me away. You know I’m right.”

Luke is shaking, with anger or tears, Calum doesn’t know; is too angry to ask.

“I can’t just...stop.”

“You can.” Calum says. “Look at what they’ve done to you. You can hardly walk, Luke!”

“That’s nothing new.” Luke says. “Look I never asked you to come into my life and try to save me. You’re just a small part of a big picture that you’ll never understand.”

Calum clenched his jaw tight enough for his teeth to start aching, but Luke crosses his arms over his chest and stands firm.

Calum’s voice is deadly calm when he speaks again.

“I will not let them destroy you, Luke. I won’t.”

“I’m not your boy, Calum, understand that.”

Calum locks their gazes together.

“You are.” He says back. “You can’t deny your feelings for me, Luke, I know you can’t. I’ve tried denying mine and it didn’t work.”

Luke shakes and turns away from Calum again, clearly upset by that last comment.

“You don’t get to say things like that to me.”

Luke’s fingers are unsteady as they grip the hem of his shirt. It’s the sight of Luke, so unsure and hurt and longing that breaks Calum’s anger. For the first time, Calum realizes what it must be like for Luke, who works day and night and tears himself to pieces to keep a roof above his head, to push Calum away. He’s gotten so used to not being able to have things...to have good, pure things in his life that forcing Calum out of his life had seemed normal. Better Luke stay away then let Calum in and watch their whole relationship crash and burn like everything around him always does.

Hands gentle on Luke’s dry skin, Calum cups Luke’s jaw and presses his nose to his cheekbone. Luke shakes in Calum’s hands, and the feeling of tears soaks into Calum’s shirt, making the older boy ache with an indescribable feeling, like a hole tearing its way into his chest.

“I’m not trying to hurt you, Luke.” He says carefully. “You know I’m not like them. I’m not going to put words in your mouth, I shouldn’t have assumed how you feel. You should have someone in your life who won’t make you do that.”

“But it’s true.” Luke gasps, his fingers sharp as they dig into Calum. “I do. I do care about you. I don’t want you to go. But I...I c-can’t have you, you and I both know that.”

“It’s ok. It’s ok to feel that. Let yourself feel that.”

Luke shakes his head and hides his face further from Calum’s gaze.

“I owe money.”

Calum pauses in his stroking of Luke’s skin, his heart beating fast enough to send the taste of blood into the back of his throat. He closes his eyes in dread and gradual understanding, like a crushing wave washing over him slowly.

“How much?”

“Enough that I’ll be doing this for the rest of my life.”

“Oh, Luke.” Calum sighs. “What did you do, babe? What did you do?”

“Mum, she…” Luke breaks, his voice cracking. “She’s an addict, Calum, and she goes absolutely crazy when she hasn’t had her fix. Dad left months ago, and I...I didn’t know what to do.”

Luke’s knees give out and Calum places him on the bed.

“I was so afraid of what she could do...Scared that I would come home and she would be hanging from the ceiling fan, or...that the house had been burned down. It didn’t matter what she did to me when I could see her so happy. Even if there was a needle shoved into her arm and she didn’t know who I was.”

Calum didn’t say anything, being so far out of his depth, he could hardly feel his fingers.

“She’s all I have left, and she gets so angry when I come home without anything for her. She lashes out and then cries and begs and it gives me such bad whiplash, especially when I’m coming down that I just feel so helpless and confused, and there’s nothing I can do, and no one I can turn to.”

“You’ve been buying for her.” Calum says, resigned. “And borrowing to pay for it.”

“The dealers don’t want just money, Calum. They want me, too. They...one of them saw me on the block and figured out how much money I make every night...they use me. I don’t even get to _keep_ all the money I make.” Luke says, tears falling so quickly, Calum has lost count. He looks up at his older boyfriend with wide blue eyes and an innocent fear and hopelessness that Calum didn’t think could ever cross Luke’s features. Luke, who has always been one or two steps ahead of Calum in this game, who has always understood the darker side of things better than anything else, who is now looking at Calum for the answers for the first time in their time together. “Don’t you understand? I can’t leave. This is the price for the things I care about. The one person I have left. If I go to the hospital or the police, I’ll ruin the one good thing I have left and probably go to prison.”

Calum shakes his head.

“No. You’re underage and you’ve been essentially blackmailed into this, you won’t get in trouble. The important thing is that we figure this out.”

“I can’t stop buying for her, Calum. You don’t know what she’s capable of.” He says seriously. “She once locked me in the pantry for three days, and I thought I would die in there because she forgot about me. I can’t get out of this.”

Calum clenches his jaw, remembering the time he drove Luke home and saw his mother embracing her son so tightly, Calum had thought Luke’s bones would break.

“Luke, look at me.”

Luke does.

“I don’t know what to do. You’re right, I’m out of my depth and I don’t understand how you feel.” He says. “But you’re not on your own with this anymore, ok? I’m here. And if you try to push me away, I’m just going to keep coming back. We’ll figure it out, ok? It’s going to be difficult and there’s not going to be a clear-cut way to do this, but we’ll do it together.”

Luke’s bottom lip wobbles, and he falls forward into Calum’s chest.

“I won’t let you hurt anymore.” He whispers, petting Luke’s hair. “I won’t.”

“I don’t know what to do.” Luke aches. “I don’t know what to do.”

 

-

 

Calum takes Luke home.

Even though he doesn’t really have a plan for how he’s going to get Luke out of this situation, he knows that he won’t let Luke stay in that house one more night that he has to. Calum knows Luke’s mother needs to get clean, and it’s probably for the best that Luke is absent for that process.

Luke looks broken and misplaced in Calum’s pristine, white-picket-fence home, looking as unstable as a newborn colt as he stumbles into the threshold. He frowns slightly at the shoe rack to his right and then slowly starts to toe off his Vans, and Calum is there to catch him when he tips sideways.

“I’m sorry.” Luke mutters. Calum can see the tears in his eyes.

“Don’t apologize anymore. Not to me.” He says. “You’re still coming down and I know you haven’t eaten today. Not to mention how physically beat up you are. It’s ok, Luke. Let me take care of you and don’t worry about seeming weak. I know. I understand.”

After that, Luke lets Calum guide him through the house with a hand at his elbow, his fingers rubbing the worn-down material of the coat Calum gave him. He doesn’t worry about appearing stoic or better than Calum, and by the time they get to Calum’s room, Luke lets the rest of his defenses fall, and his face crumbles into the agony he constantly feels.

Calum drops to his knees in front of him and rubs a thumb over Luke’s cheekbone, feather-light, not knowing which bruises lie where.

“Take your clothes off. You can shower in my bathroom and then I’m going to treat the cuts on your back.” Calum says. “And don’t bother fighting me. I’m gonna do this. And you’re going to let me.”

Luke just nods and walks to the bathroom on his own.

He stays in the shower for what Calum counts to be forty-three minutes. When he finally emerges, it’s wrapped in one of Calum’s thick white towels, his hair half-flattened to his head except for a few stubborn pieces curling at his ears. Calum guides him into clean underwear and heavy sweatpants, noting the fact that Luke is shivering despite being skin-warm from the shower. He presents Luke with a clear glass of water, which he downs quickly, and a plate of chips and strawberries. Luke is clearly hesitant, but begins picking at it under Calum’s scrutinizing gaze as the older boy picks up the hydrogen peroxide and spills it onto a cloth.

Luke whimpers but stays terrifyingly still when Calum presses the fabric to his back, straddling his hips as he does his best to clean the wounds. The letters are awful and deep and will undoubtedly scar Luke’s pale skin.

“And you’re sure you don’t want to go to the hospital?” He says again, reaching for the gauze on his nightstand. His fingers fumble as he works, unsure and shaken by the situation.

“I’m sure.” Luke answers in a squeaky voice.

“You said you work at the refinery.” Calum says when he’s finished, packing up the supplies. Luke nods, a strawberry in his hand. “I didn’t know that.”

“It’s why I miss school a lot.” Luke says. “As soon as I turned sixteen, I started working there. It fucking sucks and it kills my hands but it pays over minimum wage, so.”

“I thought that you just…”

“Fucked for a living?” Luke asks without humor. “Prostitution pays well, but not well enough for a house and food and clothing. Mum hasn’t brought home a pay stub in two months.”

“Fuck, Luke.” Calum says heavily, getting up to change into pajamas.

“Yeah. Things haven’t been going too well.”

“And your father? He just left?” Calum ventures, trying to be gentle.

“He and mum had a big fight...Mum told him to leave and not come back.” Luke says. He is pressed against Calum’s headboard, his knees brought up to his chest. “So that’s what he did. Apparently he didn’t care that it wasn’t just her he was leaving.”

It’s something vulnerable, what Luke just put out there, that his father left him...that Luke cared when he did. If they’d been having this conversation six weeks ago, Luke would have scoffed about it and acted like he couldn’t have cared less that his dad walked out. It strikes Calum that Luke has been hiding all of this pain from everyone, including, maybe, himself.

“He sends money sometimes, though.” Luke points out, as if that fixes things. “Every once and awhile. And I haven’t heard from Ben or Jack since Jack turned eighteen a year ago. I don’t even know where they are.”

Calm had seen Luke tuck that picture of his family away enough times to know how important they all are, or at least, were to him. The fact that it’s become so broken and twisted must be tearing him to shreds.

Calum joins Luke on his bed, encouraging the shivering blonde under the covers before kneeling down beside him on the floor.

“Maybe it’s time you called your dad. You don’t have to do this by yourself, you know. Call your dad and tell him what’s happening with your mum. Maybe the four of you can help her get into rehab.” Calum suggests, petting Luke’s cheek with the back of his knuckle.

“Yeah. I mean, it’s going to fucking suck, calling my dad and having to tell him all this.” Luke says quietly, pressing the careful tip of his nose against Calum’s palm. “But I think you’re right.”

They’re quiet for a moment, Calum holding his breath and listening to Luke’s heartbeat, which is still too fast for a healthy sixteen year old boy. Luke’s hair is soft and still damp, smelling of Calum’s shampoo and it just shocks Calum a little, how quickly and deeply he has come to know Luke, yet how much he yet fails to understand. He leans down and kisses Luke’s forehead, one of the only times he has ever touched Luke without sexual intent behind it.

By the way Luke flinches slightly and flushes red, Calum would guess it’s the first time Luke’s been touched affectionately in awhile.

“Are you going to stay?” Luke asks in a tiny, tiny voice.

“This is my room, Luke. Of course I’m going to stay.”

Luke nods, then backs off, thumbing at the pillow under his head.

“It’s just that...you never stay, you know, after.” He says, his eyes looking everywhere but Calum’s face. This comment strikes him, making him move his hands away from Luke and raise an eyebrow.

“What do you mean?” He says. “I thought you always wanted me to leave. You would ignore me.”

Luke doesn’t answer, just drags his pointer finger over the pattern of the bedspread.

“Luke, if I had known-”

“Do I always have to make things clear?” Luke rushes out all of the sudden, showing his hand. Luke only snaps like that when he’s becoming defensive...or embarrassed. “Do I always have to...tell you explicitly to stay and cuddle me? At work, people never want to stay long after. And if they do...Well, at this point, I just hope they don’t. But, with you...I don’t know, I think it might be kind of...nice, maybe.”

“All you had to do was ask. I would have stayed.” Calum promises, feeling his heart tug painfully in his chest. “Every single time, I wanted to.”

Luke flushes, Calum can feel it.

“It’s just...kinda pathetic, to have to ask your fuck buddy to stay so you can get cuddles. I didn’t want you to think that-”

“What, that you like affection?” Calum ventures, meaning to joke, but realizing at the last second that that’s probably _exactly_ what Luke had been hoping to avoid. “I get it, Luke. You wanted to keep yourself cut off from me...but letting me take care of you isn’t embarrassing and I don’t plan on doing anything to hurt you. If anyone is going to get hurt in this situation, it’s me. You’re so far out my league, it’s not even funny.”

“You’re Calum Hood.” Luke says blankly, unimpressed. “And I’m a fucking prostitute. Don’t say that I’m out of your league ever again.”

“Do you get my point here?” Calum says with a roll of his eyes. “Everyone deserves affection, Luke. Especially in the form of cuddles, which so happens to be a specialty of mine.”

Luke laughs, a soft thing that’s half-drowned by the comforter he’s pressed against. After that he’s quiet for a time, his breathing evening out, and so Calum smiles gently to himself, winding his fingers through his shower-damp hair. He’s warm and half-asleep, bruised and shaking, and Calum feels something course through his chest, something molten-hot and slithering, that settles in his stomach. It’s not love, because he can’t love Luke, but he thinks it’s probably a fierce protectiveness he’s never felt before.

“I don’t deserve this.” Luke whispers to him, his voice gentle like it was when he admitted that it hurt when his dad left them. “You know that, right?”

Calum swallows an uncomfortable knot that formed in his throat.

“Don’t say that.”

“It’s the truth, isn’t it?”

“No.” Calum promises. “Just no.”

“I’m just...I’m just trying to say thank you. I’m not looking for you to fix me. But I want you to know that I’m...grateful for you in my life.” Luke says, choking on the words of gratitude. It must be hard for him to acknowledge his feelings, Calum thinks.

“You don’t need to be grateful. I want to do this.”

Luke frowns so deeply it threatens to cut Calum’s heart in half, because despite the genuine tone to his voice, Luke _doesn’t believe_ him. And how could he? How could Luke truly believe that someone wanted to take care of him because they liked him? How could he trust that Calum wanted to be close to Luke out of affection and not some filthy ulterior motive that has probably burned him more than once?

If the roles were reversed, Calum doesn’t think he would _ever_ let Luke in. His heart is kneaded in his chest like soft taffy and Calum is _blown away_ by how much trust Luke has placed in him, even though he knows there’s still a long road ahead of them.

Calum strokes Luke’s cheek again and gets off the floor.

“Where are you going?” Luke squeaks, his blue eyes wide and afraid, like he actually believes Calum would leave, even after Calum promising he would stay.

Luke knows better than anyone what that kind of pain is like.

“Just getting another blanket.” He says softly, reassuring. He grabs the thickest blanket he can from his closet, then another softer one, and walks back to the bed. After stealing the pillow Luke wasn’t using, Calum laid the thinner blanket over Luke, who was _still_ shivering. He doesn’t know what Luke took earlier in the day, but it’s a Friday, so whatever it was probably fucked him up a little bit. But it’s okay. He’s here now, wrapped in blankets and hopefully aware of the affection Calum’s trying to surround him with.

Calum lays down on the floor beside the bed and fluffs the pillow under his head. It’s stiff from lack of use, considering Luke is currently laying on the one he usually sleeps on, but Calum finds that he doesn’t mind that much.

“What are you doing?” Luke questions, peering over the side of the bed. “You’re not sleeping there, are you?”

Calum nods while reaching behind his nightstand for his phone charger. He turns back over and is surprised to see the shock on Luke’s face, and, to his horror, the thinly veiled hurt in his expression.

“Oh,” He says, blue eyes dampening a bit. “Right.”

“It’s not what you think, babe.” Calum says gently, the pet name slipping out despite himself. He reaches up and tangles his and Luke’s fingers together, taking note of the calluses and raw skin of Luke’s hands. “I just don’t want you to think that we need to sleep together for you to deserve this. And plus, it’s probably been a while since you slept on this big of a bed alone, huh?”

Luke nods with a tiny smile that doesn’t reach his eyes; he’s not convinced.

“Calum, it’s your bed. I can’t just take it and make you sleep on the floor. You have footy tomorrow.”

“Skipping.” Calum says, aggressively batting down the flame of pleasure that erupts in his chest when he realizes Luke knows his schedule. “And don’t worry about it. I’ve slept on it plenty. The floor is comfy.”

Luke finger’s tighten in Calum’s, nearly pulling the older boy up the bed. After a moment, Calum realizes that that’s exactly what Luke is trying to do, his arms too weak to try and accomplish the task. Calum meets him halfway, sitting up on his elbows to look Luke in the eye.

“Will you kiss me?” Luke ventures in a velvety-soft voice, insecurity dancing in his irises like ghosts of his past. “I know that we’re not fucking or anything and that I’m still shaking and that-”

“Luke,” Calum cuts him off before framing his face with his thumbs and pressing a chaste kiss to his chapped lips. It’s sweet and vulnerable in a way that Calum hadn’t been expecting. If Luke wants to keep what they have going, Calum suspects that things will be like this for a while.

“Thank you.” Luke says with such earnestness that Calum nearly chokes on the knot in his throat.

“Luke,” Calum says again, pushing Luke’s soft bangs away from his forehead. “I’m sorry for the way I treated you when we slept together. The things I called you and the way I’d manhandle you-”

“Calum,” Luke cuts off this time. “Don’t apologize for that. That’s how I wanted it. There’s nothing to be sorry for.”

“There’s plenty to be sorry for. You didn’t deserve to be treated that way after taking it all day at the block. I should have been better than that. I should have stood up and told you no, that you deserved kisses and cuddles and maybe a blowjob. Anything else was unacceptable.”

Luke’s face is somber as he scans over Calum’s expression, his own hand coming up and thumbing at Calum’s cheek, so they’re mirror images.

“Thank you for giving me your bed.” Luke squeaks. Calum nods. “But for the record, I wouldn’t be offended if you slept on it with me.”

“I know.” Calum answers before lowering himself back onto the floor. Their fingers are still melded together so Calum takes a moment to kiss Luke’s knuckles sweetly before letting go. “But we’ll have plenty of time for that later. For now, I’m gonna stay down here and tomorrow we’ll start figuring this out, love.”

“Yeah,” Luke breathes out, turning onto his back. “We’ll get it figured out.”

Calum rolls onto his side away from Luke, but breathes a little easier at Luke’s reassurance. He stays awake until he hears Luke’s breathing even out, reveling in the sound, now knowing what he’d been missing all those times he didn’t stay because he hadn’t been smart enough to see that Luke wanted him too.

This things they have going is messy and complicated and will be impossible to explain, but Calum feels oddly good about it. He thinks about the cuts on Luke’s back and the trust the boy had placed in him and the _I love you_ that had flavored his tongue in the moments before they kissed.

Thinking that he’ll have tomorrow and the day after that and then the day after that to tell Luke how he feels, Calum closes his eyes and falls asleep with hope blossoming in his chest like roses.


End file.
